Invasion

by L. E. Thomas

  Nat's thoughts drifted away as Craig cycled through the options available for a native son of Yesro Vraun after leaving the military—mostly vocational careers to help support the developing aristocracy of the newly-conquered planet. Craig mentioned mechanic jobs, low-level engineering work and the like. Craig spoke to him like he was a loyal pet. It was as if Nat had behaved well and deserved to land a stable second-class citizen job after he left the military. As he spoke, Nat realized he would never be seen as anything but a native, not an actual officer of the Zahl Empire.

  But he didn’t care about any of that at the moment. Tressa needed him, and he wouldn’t leave her again.

  "How does that sound?" Craig asked, his face beaming.

  Nat forced a smile. "Sounds good, sir. Thank you, sir."

  Craig grinned and activated his tablet. "Now, one last thing. Your temporary CO will be Captain Killian. His trainee has come down with the stomach flu, and he needs a pilot to carry out a cargo run to the Justice the day after tomorrow before she leaves the system. I thought you'd be perfect."

  "Thank you, sir."

  "I'm sure you're attending the parade this afternoon?"

  Nat shook his head. "I am not sure I know what you're referring to, Commander?"

  "Downtown Molah. They are celebrating the end of the resistance, and the local population is thrilled with the news. You had a hand in making it happen. You should clean yourself up and attend. Dress reds, if you please. Then, take leave until your flight."

  It wasn't a request.

  "It'd be an honor, sir." Nat saluted, spun on his heel, and left.

  The square surrounding the capital filled with dark crimson comprising an impressive assortment of military power, ranging from Gladius light tanks to mech units, to parked MUDs with troop modules opened to reveal armed Marines standing at attention. Heavy tanks known as Spathas lined the main boulevard with their cannons aimed toward the sky, creating a canopy of steel over the primary road leading to the grand stairs of the Molah Capitol. The closer one traveled to the stairs, the brighter the red indicating higher-ranked personnel comprised of those closest to the stage. Civilians in varying red garments lingered at the edge of the gathering, newly arrived immigrants from throughout the Empire descending on Yesro Vraun based on promises of a new world ripe for development. From the air, Nat thought, the cityscape must have appeared to have a massive bruise in the center.

  For his part, Nat remained with the low-ranking cargo shuttle pilots. Amongst the lowest of the low making up the Naval Air Corps, he was at the bottom. And it appeared he would remain there forever, having sold out his sister for nothing and now standing in the center of a city no longer his.

  Rather than guilt, he felt a hollow sensation since landing the day before. He didn't sleep the previous night. Instead, he gazed out the window as Alpha Station and the Justice drifted across the heavens, wondering how he could possibly go about contacting the resistance or—more importantly—rescuing Tressa. Although nausea plagued him all night, he never vomited. He hadn't eaten anything since landing other than a protein bar and he had only finished half of it.

  He glared at the Justice visible in the morning sky. As soon as the ARC received its replacement, the Justice would depart for the Prime Systems with Tox and Tressa aboard.

  Speakers squeaked from the stage, catching the attention of everyone in the Capitol Square and silencing what little conversation had murmured. Yesro Vraun Governor Compa waited behind a podium at the center of the temporary stage erected on the grand stairs, his ruby sash gleaming over his chest adorned with medals.

  Admirals, generals and other high-ranking officials sat behind him with self-assured expressions of greatness on their faces.

  "Attention!" Compa snapped, his voice bouncing off the Zahlian architecture in the city.

  The military forces stomped to rigid attention, the sound of a thousand boots crashing to the pavement echoing like distant thunder. Nat followed the lead as if he was a puppet, his heart no longer aligned with the pomp of the Zahl Navy. He braced himself, knowing what was coming next.

  Compa inhaled and shouted, "It is with great pleasure I welcome you all here today to the center of Molah. Once a city of ruin and primitive culture, the might of the Zahl Empire has turned this city into one of the greatest on the Frontier. Look around you! Bask in the glory and light of the Zahl!"

  Some of the civilians at the rear of the assembly cheered and offered a spattering of applause, but the military stood at rigid attention as a breeze moved through the capital.

  "None of this would have been possible without the efforts of Commander Gray Radman and his initial landings, of course," Compa said as if beginning a historical lecture, "but the ongoing threat of those terrorists lurking in the shadows is no more, all because of the actions and efforts of one man—Captain Greer Tox, hero of Yesro Vraun and liberator of the people! Without him, our planet would not be safe. Before the leader of the resistance, the lowly criminal named Tressa Hodges, leaves on the Justice for her execution—"

  The crowd roared with glee, interrupting Compa's speech. Nat clenched his jaw, wondering how many —if any—of the crowd were from here or if they were paid by the organizers of this event to cheer at planned moments in the ceremony.

  Compa raised his hands and continued, "Before the terrorist Hodges leaves, Yesro Vraun would like to recognize Tox for his efforts in rooting out the vermin and transitioning this world into a new era of peace and prosperity. Today, we celebrate the end of the occupation force and beginning of a true Zahlian world! Today, we recognize Tox with the planet's first Triumph! Captain Tox, come forth and be recognized!"

  Trumpets sounded, blaring through the streets. Behind Compa on the Capitol, a large crimson fabric unfurled down the length of the building. Nat grimaced as the image was revealed: a painted portrait of Tox looking at the heavens like he was some sort of god. Orchestral music followed the trumpets, and a lone figure stood between the line of tanks, a fiery torch in hand as he marched. As the torchbearer passed Nat's position, he stared forward with confidence and his chin held high. It was Tox, stepping ahead as thousands of red petals fell from the buildings, some clinging to his flawless uniform adorned with medals. The wind swirled the petals around, carrying them across the tanks and crowd. The orchestra music swelled, bombastic music heralding the arrival of the event's purpose.

  Stepping up to the front of the stage, Tox tilted his torch into an enormous bronze bowl. The kindling caught fire, bursting into a towering bonfire at the front of the stage. He handed the torch to a Marine and strolled up the stairs, the extravagant orchestra halting with timpani drums pounding five times and ceasing. Compa placed a medal around Tox's neck, and the officers in the square applauded as he turned with his hands raised. The clapping grew into roaring cheers as the Zahl occupying forces celebrated, the petals changing to confetti.

  "Tox! Tox! Tox!"

  The screaming crowd surged like rolling thunder as the ceremony reached its climax. Citizens embraced, some with faces streaked with tears as they celebrated the Empire. The officials broke formation as the service ended, congratulating one another atop the remains of the Tarrafa civilization.

  Knowing he was now off duty, Nat slipped away and strolled toward the base with his hands in his pockets, eyes on the pavement, unaware he was being followed.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Nat heard the whimpering before he knew where it came from. He paused, the flow of celebrating pedestrians flowing around him, all speaking the Zahl language. None bore local accents as the former Oshuan capital was probably less than one percent native any longer—and that percentage was regulated to the substandard sanitation workers.

  "Watch it!" a businessman grumbled as he passed, two impossibly beautiful women on each arm.

  Nat scowled at the man as he strolled through the capital, drinking champagne and celebrating with the others.

  But the whimpering called to him. Was it a child? It sounded a
s if a small girl was crying nearby.

  He looked down the nearest alley and found her. Covered in a grayish film of ash and soot, a young girl sat in a puddle with discarded trash, a dirty half-eaten sandwich in her left hand while she cried in the other. Her hair was wet and dingy, knotted in tangles. He stepped out of the thoroughfare and into the dim alley, ignoring the caution in the back of his mind.

  "Little girl?" he called, stepping forward and squatting a few strides away from her. "Are you all right?"

  The girl appeared not to hear him, her sobs growing louder as she buried her face into her free hand. As Nat moved closer, he heard buzzing flies around her, smelled the horrid mix of rotten food and human waste. What had happened to her? She was a native, he knew that from looking at her. But was she orphaned? Had she escaped from one of the reservations in the countryside and scurried here? From everything he had heard, native children had been removed from Molah months ago. Only a very few natives remained in permanent residence in the capital of Yesro Vraun, most taking tube transports in from the reservations.

  "Hey," he said, reaching out and touching her forearm. "Are you hurt? Where are your parents?"

  The girl stopped crying, raising her dirty face from her hand. No tears streaked down her cheeks, the skin not red or swollen. Instead, she smiled at him.

  Nat frowned. "What—"

  "So gullible, Natty-nat."

  He jerked his head to the sound of the voice. An intense blunt force struck his nose, the thud sending him across the alley on his backside, blood gushing from his nostrils. Shaking his head, he tried to stand. A second attack collided with the back of his skull. He fell into the wretched puddle, darkness falling over him, an odd feeling of relief surging through him as he realized the pain would soon end.

  "Wake up, traitor."

  The back of a sweaty hand slapped his face, and Nat saw nothing but stars. He tasted blood. He tried to wipe his face, but his hands were restrained. His boots were strapped to the chair.

  "Where am I?" he asked, staring through the tears, sweat and blood burning his eyes.

  "I'm surprised you don't remember," the same voice said. "Take a good look, ‘cause you're going to die down here."

  Nat struggled to right his head, his vision and equilibrium swirling. It looked like a basement. Boxes lined the room. At the far end of the expanse, the charred remains of a staircase…

  His eyes widened.

  "Yes," the man said, "this is where you decided to betray your people, your family."

  Nat followed the sound of the voice. Sitting near him on a rusty stool, a familiar face glared at him.

  "Viper?" he coughed. "What are you doing?"

  "You bastard," Viper said through his teeth. "I ought to kill you right now. How could you do it? Huh?"

  Nat exhaled. "What are you—"

  "Tressa!" Viper lunged forward, grabbing Nat by the throat and cocking his fist over his head. "Why? Her own brother!"

  Viper punched Nat in the nose again, the force renewing the flow of blood. He reared back for another attack, his eyes ablaze with fury, and sweat pouring down his face as his other hand closed around Nat's throat.

  "Stop!"

  Viper's trembling fist wavered and fell, his face crumpling. "He deserves to die."

  "And he will, but not by your hand."

  Releasing him, Viper took two steps back. Nat collapsed in the chair as another man emerged from the trapdoor in the floor where Dedrick Rowe had tried to flee years ago. The newcomer stepped forward, long dyed black hair falling to his shoulders, obviously enhanced to form some sort of disguise.

  Nat squinted, the lone light swinging over the basement casting a beam on the man's face.

  "Da?"

  "No," Kad said with one shake of his head, "not anymore. Not to you. My only child is in orbit, thanks to you, and she's about to be executed."

  “It was her idea,” Nat wheezed.

  “What?”

  “I wanted to—"

  "It no longer matters what you wanted." Kad stepped closer, his eyes narrowing and revealing no emotion. "Tressa trusted you when no one else would. She put the fate of the entire world in your hands. And you betrayed her. The only reason you're not dead is because I wanted to look you in the eye one last time, see if you truly were the heartless coward we've all taken you for. You're no longer my son."

  Nat winced and swallowed. “Our mission was compromised. Pretending to turn her in was the only way. Tressa told me to do it. Believe me, I’d trade with her if I could.”

  “Liar!” Viper shouted.

  Nat shook his head, blood spilling over his lips. “It’s the truth. We don’t have much time. I’m—"

  “Going to disappear," Kad said without delay. "You're going to vanish like the rest of our people, slipping away as if you never existed. I doubt the Zahl will ever find you. I'll make sure of it." He loomed over Nat, his lip quivering. "Your ... Ma would be devastated. You know that?"

  Viper stepped forward. "I'll do it, boss. You don't have to be here for this."

  Kad held his hand up, his eyes locked on Nat as he shook his head slowly. "How did you come to this?" he whispered. "Why?"

  "Boss, no man should have to watch—"

  "Quiet," Kad said, never taking his eyes from Nat. "What were you trying to do?"

  Nat pursed his lips. "I wanted her to be safe, Da. That's all I’ve wanted since this whole thing started. I can’t make you believe me."

  Kad took a step back and looked at Viper. "Make it quick."

  His heart raced as Kad spun around. Viper stepped forward, a serrated blade in his hands and a wild look in his eyes. Nat braced himself, knowing the end was near.

  "Wait," Kad said without turning. "What was Tressa's plan with you? Why did she go to such lengths to get to you? Why were you so important?"

  Nat closed his eyes. “She needed a Zahlian pilot."

  "Why?"

  Nat snorted as a tear rolled down his cheek. "She wanted to use me to fire a system disruptor from within the Justice to disable it. Then the hidden resistance ships could escape."

  Viper inhaled, glancing back at Kad. "The deliverance? Could that be what he's talking about? Starting the exodus?"

  Taking a deep breath, Kad turned around and looked at Nat. "What exactly does this disruptor do?"

  Nat exhaled, spitting the blood dripping onto his lips. "She said it could knock out the sensors for the entire system, allowing our people to escape using the stolen curvature drives."

  Kad's face thawed into a partial grin. "Our people?" he breathed. "Is that what you said?"

  Nat nodded.

  Reaching forward, Kad pulled Viper's blade away from Nat's neck. "Where is this disruptor?"

  Nat fought to catch up, realizing his neck was not about to be slit. He thought of the shuttle he’d left on the tarmac. "As far as I know, it's still back at the port, and they won't be leaving it on the planet for long. If you want to get to it, you'd have to move fast. It's what Tressa wanted. It'll give your shrouded cruisers the ability to flee."

  Kad seemed to consider this for a heartbeat. His brow lowered as he looked back at Nat. "You're the only one who can do it. Tressa may be lost, but you could make her sacrifice worthwhile, Nat. You could avenge her. Do you think you could get back to the shuttle?"

  Nat nodded. "They said I have a flight scheduled the day after tomorrow, but I need a diversion of some kind. I'm sure that shuttle—if it's still there—is under guard."

  "Oh, we can give you a distraction. We've been waiting for Tressa's plan to materialize. We're ready to break our people out of the reservations, but we couldn't because the Zahl would just swat us back down when we tried to flee. We're more coordinated than you could possibly realize. You give us the word, we'll light the world on fire." He touched Nat's shoulder. "You might be our only hope here, son. Can you do this? Can you get that weapon?"

  Wiping at his bloody nose, Nat leaned forward, "Get me out of these restraints. I've got a
plan."

  "They really beat the hell out of you," the medic said, applying pressure to the swelling of his nose. "How many did you say there were?"

  Nat winced, bracing himself as the medic worked on his face. He had cleaned himself up the best he could, and returned to the base, weaving through the crowd celebrating the downfall of the local resistance and heralding a new era. The military police had found him at the gate, battered and bruised, and brought him to the port station. When he said he'd been mugged, they appeared concerned and started asking questions about the resistance right away. But Nat had told them the group seemed to want his money, and he hadn't been carrying any Z-creds.

  "I don't really know," he said, his face contorting as he smelled blood. "I need to speak with Captain Tox immediately."

  The medic froze, backing away from him slightly. "Captain Tox? Why?"

  "It's important."

  "I'm quite certain he is busy."

  "I have information only for him. I need to get my tablet and send him a Gold Priority message."

  The medic snorted. "Well, good luck with that. I'm about done here."

  They finished the patchwork on his face damaged by Viper's onslaught. The medic left, and the MPs gave him a tablet with access to the local network, telling him to wait in one of the rooms usually saved for interrogations. He found Tox's account and sent him a Gold message, knowing he was typing a message Tox couldn't ignore—no matter how much the planet was currently worshiping his existence.

  It took four hours of hanging out at the military police station before Tox arrived wearing a stylish and formfitting black suit with red cufflinks. The sun had set, and the sky had transitioned to deep blues and purples of dusk. Peering through the station windows, Nat watched Tox leave the APC and his entourage outside as he entered.

  "I don't have time for you—what do you want?" Tox demanded as he entered, sweeping the room to see they were alone. "I'm expected for the Triumph Ball and had to come here first."